


Burn your life down

by thedevilshometheater



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Accidental Plot, Alternate Universe - A Song of Ice and Fire, Explicit Language, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Incest, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Violent Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-06-17
Packaged: 2018-04-04 20:46:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4152354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilshometheater/pseuds/thedevilshometheater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has that Targaryen genius and cruelty. Eggsy has that Lannister beauty and blind devotion. A Game of Thrones AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burn your life down

**HARRY**

The Red Keep is a not a place for disport, not when there are eyes on every wall. Power here is negotiable only to the advantage of the man who sees everything. Which is just the perfect axiom to describe the tumultuous chapter of the current reign. A kind of motif for future Maesters to employ when they speak of how the Gentleman King Harry Targaryen allowed the first rebellion in fifty years to spiral out of control.

But his world is not King’s Landing alone so it is needless to ponder. Other parts of the Seven Kingdoms couldn’t give a fuck about manners and upkeep, and Harry feels more and more convinced to identify with that inclination.

Perhaps, had it been a good day, a day without a pending invasion on their doorsteps, maybe Harry would have taken the chance to do it right. He would have used his charm and wit, the smoothness of his upbringing. He would have given them both what they deserved. Had he not chosen to give in to the desperation and the fury, and the cold surge of fear in his blood that this could very well be their last chance, maybe he would have been less resentful, less coarse. 

It’s hell of an exercise in justifying why he’s fucking one of the Lannister twins on the Iron Throne. 

“Is this what you wanted?” grunts Harry, anger mixing with the lust in his gut as he sheaths his cock into the warm, tight corridor of heaven between Eggsy Lannister’s legs. 

The boy is a sculpted mass of beauty, youth and insolence, his neck tucked in an uncomfortable angle as Harry fucks him mercilessly. Desperate hands flail between them, trying to grab hold of Harry’s skin like there’s too much and too little of him and Eggsy wants everything at the same time.

Harry swats them away. The will to punish the boy burns alongside the desire to take him, both driving Harry to the point of insanity. 

As expected, the rejection only urges Eggsy to try again, mewling as he runs his fingers up and down Harry’s body, his fat cock bouncing, ignored, between them. No one would think he was a Lannister, arrogant by day and capable of _murder_ and catalyzing wars, what with the way the he is splayed like a helpless country tart, flushed open and ripe, begging to be devoured over and over again. 

All the same, Harry feels the strength of a hunter and a killer in those sinuous muscles, just as much as he feels the whirr of hunger when Eggsy digs his ankles into Harry’s back and curves his lower body upward, greedily shoving Harry’s cock deep inside of him with a loud growl. 

The poison in the sweet offering is debilitating to Harry’s judgment. Harry slaps Eggsy as a reward, spit and tears spraying into the air. He forces him back down with a hand on his belly to remind him who’s in control. 

“Is this what you wanted? Is this what you wanted, you impatient little cunt?” bellows Harry, breathing fumes as he watches the flush on Eggsy’s face deepens, tears rolling down his cheeks from exhaustion and lust and the humiliation. 

Harry revels in the sight, and it frightens that sensible part of him. A part which crumbles with each fevered thrust, silenced as the maddening song of skins smacking continues to swallow Eggsy's pitiful whines 

All the controlled Targaryen rage spills out like never before, intensified by anger, fear, and murder.

And the love. The love that strikes him back just as hard as he struck Eggsy, the love that softens his thrusts when Eggsy chokes out between the tears, “Your grace, please,” 

Harry grips the crown of the Iron Chair, slicing open the skin on his hands. He hisses at the only kind of pain he can tolerate right now, the only rage that is on his side, keeping hold on his final shred of self-control. Blood trickles down his forearms, down his elbows, splattering Eggsy beneath him. 

“I’m yours, your grace - fuck me, I'm yours,” cries Eggsy through his tears and Harry’s blood, voice wrecked and so thinned he almost sounds angelic. 

“You’re mine, yes,” declares Harry, as he starts to thrust violently once more. “Your manners are a fucking disappointment, my boy, but you _are_ mine. And you can expect to make up for all the trouble you’ve caused right here,” 

It didn’t have to be this way, seven gods, it did not. Harry was content to live out the rest of his days admiring the boy from atop his dais, because that was what Harry the Targaryen Black Sheep was wont to do. 

He thought he could deal with the boy throwing him meaningful glances over his sister’s shoulder, filled often with longing and devotion, and equal parts resentment. Harry is the fucking King, after all, but before that he was a Targaryen Prince, used to being waited on, watched, and wooed. 

He trusted himself to be able to tell where the risks lay, to rely on the fact that the walls have eyes and ears. He trusted that at his age, he would have had the cognizance to weave the necessary illusions, and therein grow the immunity to such seduction. 

But Harry’s mistake lied in underestimating how penetrative Eggsy Lannister can be, how insightful. A skill he no doubt acquired from the bloody wargs of Winterfell and Greywatch Tower. 

Harry feels the telltale squeeze around his cock and his blood boils with avarice. The boy’s body, painted red by Harry’s blood and Harry’s hands, curves like a bow string. Just when Harry thinks he’s about to go out like that, Eggsy pushes himself up with one hand and grabs Harry’s face with the other, locking their gaze. 

Harry sees his whole world fall apart in those searing green eyes before he even feels the spurt of come on his belly. Eggsy is breathlessly beautiful, legs squeezed around Harry’s middle, pupils blown and shining with tears. 

It’s more than Harry can bear to see before he’s filling up Eggsy’s ass and kissing him and crushing him in a frightful embrace. 

“Harry,” whimpers Eggsy as they fall on the throne in a cradle of limbs. It’s been a long time since anyone’s ever called him by name, no King, no Your Grace. Eggsy buries his face into Harry’s neck. Harry almost misses the words disguised by the sobbing, “I’m so sorry, Harry. It’s all my fault.” 

It’s a matter of fact, but Harry is just as well complicit in this affair. 

So, here they are, the King who was supposed to marry the Dorne Princess a week ago, and today must face her grandmother’s army, along with the rebellion instigated by the aggrieved Lord Arthur of Harrenhaal, House of Hesketh, for the murder of his son, and Eggsy Lannister, former heir of Casterly Rock, brother to Harry’s most talented Kingsguard, and murderer of Charlie Hesketh, lying naked together on the Iron Throne. 

Even in the ashes of certain downfall, something sparks inside Harry at the sight of Eggsy curled around him, stemming not from any false hope that they might win the war yet. But that even after everything that’s happened, life still gives him something to relish. 

The wounds on Harry’s hands sting as he pulls the silvery grey cape. It’s slightly shredded from the frantic descent down the Iron Throne, but whole enough to cover their dignity. 

“I’m sorry, your grace. For everything.” says Eggsy more audibly now. Harry tightens his arm around Eggsy’s shoulder, “Not _everything_ , I hope. Besides, Maester Merlin explained it all to me.”

“Maester Merlin?” Eggsy sounds shocked. Harry slowly pieces the puzzle together and realizes where the boy is coming from. “Oh, Eggsy. You thought it was your sister.” 

The moment takes a while to sink in, and when Eggsy speaks Harry detects the forgiveness and the relief in his voice, and the tinge of regret. 

“I think many things of my sister - I think of her in love, always. In jealousy, yes, when you chose her over me. But the things people said about her, about me...”

Harry traces down Eggsy’s skin, three fingers caressing the faint hair on his chest. 

“What did they say about you?”

Eggsy looks down, “I’m sure you’ve heard.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

”S’ the reason why we’re in this war, innit? Coz I was afraid you’d hear about it and it’s all you’ll think of me and now you’re gonna make me say it.”

“What does it matter what I think of it - unless there’s any truth to it?”

”I just think it’s fucking funny, is all.” Though, it doesn’t sound like he does at all.

”But you didn’t think it was funny then, did you?”

Eggsy doesn’t say a word and Harry suspects that he must feel incredibly foolish right now. There’s a crisp, steep fall from foolish to the point where forgiving one’s self is impossible. And if Harry is supposed to lose in a couple of days what his grandmother has fought to reclaim, he cannot let Eggsy doubt that it was all worth it.

”For what it’s worth, I never bought it. Not for a minute. But it was a lovely thought.” 

The young man withdraws from the King’s arms and looks at him in horror. Harry smiles inwardly, deciding to taunt the boy a little further. 

“Lovely to think of you a kept boy in the tower, an ordinary courtier while your sister wore that resplendent white cape. It must have been like salt to the wound, to hear people talk about her fucking you, forcing you down on the sheets after a long day, taking your cock without question, or trying to get you pregnant with the hilt of -”

”Stop it,” demands Eggsy. 

His body is flushed once more. Stained with blood and grime, he looks like a fruit, squirming against Harry’s body and hands reaching down to cover his stiffening cock. Harry laughs, manic and loud, and he bats Eggsy’s hands away. 

“Nothing to be ashamed about. I’m a product of Targaryen inbreeding,” says Harry dryly, “Had it been true, I’d have been the last person to judge.”

“I have never and I will never fuck my sister,” 

The viciousness Eggsy’s voice is unexpected. Harry will never admit for the rest of his life that it took him a long while right then to understand why. And when the truth does hit, Harry feels his world freeze, as if Winter had broken through the Wall and seized all the light and warmth right out of the Seven Kingdoms.

-

At the time, so many stories were coming out the western lands. But by the time they’d reached King’s Landing, they’d been transformed into grotesque and perverted exaggerations. 

As was his way even when he was Prince, Harry Targaryen did not trust spiderwebs, but he listened anyway. So, when he was finally king, he knew of the Lannister twins well enough before he met them. Could legends have a way of predicting the future, maybe Harry would have paid more attention. 

They had been raised apart, Lady Roxy with all that came with being Casterly Rock’s only-heiress but not-heir. As Lannister women did not inherit Casterly Rock; they just produced the son that did. 

Roxy did not come to King’s Landing with child, although rumors of several forsaken betrothals followed her wherever she went. It was evident that she had fought the expectations of her house growing up. It must have been difficult, if not borderline treacherous to claim her father’s seat on her own terms. 

What Harry then found curious was how unlikely it was that Lady Roxy did not repel her brother, who having returned home from his wardship with the Starks up north after eighteen long years was declared heir of Casterly Rock. 

Harry expected stories of resentment at least. But Maester Merlin had had him believe that through the reunion years, Lady Roxy had become incredibly protective of her twin, and Eggsy grew resistent to the grotesque ambition that was hallmark of Lannister pride. 

Whatever miniscule interest Harry had in the case, he didn’t expect it to grow. Nor did he expect to be roped right into the heart of the matter when the time came. 

Harry remembers the day the twins set foot in the Red Keep. Lady Roxy had knocked out one Kingsguard, while her brother disarmed another. Side by side they stood, eyes on the new King. 

“My King, we heard there was an opening in the Kingsguard,” said the elder twin, blood dripping down her brow. The guard beneath her brother gave a pained growl, and she dared add, “Or two.”

Harry exchanged looks with Merlin. Any other person, knight, noble or commoner, would have been whipped or sent to the stocks in the old days. But Harry was King now, and he fancied to think he took after the Targaryens of the Reclamation, not the ones who lost the throne in the first place. 

Oh, if only he knew what was to come. 

That the twins would be his undoing, or that the “our father sends his regards” was a complete lie. 

It took a whole week for the truth to come out - one of the twins had been secretly shooting down ravens flying in from the west. Had the letter from their father arrived on time, the threats embedded would have given the counsel pause, would have had Merlin urging Harry to, “Send them both back home.”

Except, a staccato of events had filled the seven days it took for the Lannister envoy to subvert the twin’s expectations that their foil would come by sky and finally reach the King’s ear. 

At the beginning of those seven days, Harry welcomed the Dorne matriarch and agreed to marry her daughter and finally unite all of Westeros. And by the end of them, Ser James of the City Watch had put the Lannisters through all the death defying tests, both twins demonstrating extraordinary skill in combat, swordsmanship and horse riding. 

Together, their choreography struck dumb both admirers and detractors. Lady Roxy was still a lady and a lady only to many, despite the fact that with each training day, it became frighteningly clear that anybody who disapproved of her candidacy would have to risk facing her sword. 

Roxy was clever with her weapon, smooth like a stream, dangerous as a storm. It was impossible to think she wasn’t educated in fighting. In that at least, Harry was surprised to see, Lord Dean Lannister had clearly indulged her. 

Unlike his sister, Eggsy was brutish. But he was graceful in his own way, light on his feet where Roxanne was unyielding. He seemed to be everywhere all at once, slicing and striking precise blow after blow. 

Sister and brother shared the same arrogant Lannister stride after surpassing each test. They sought only the approval of one juror, that of the King they hoped to protect. But though both bowed every time, one twin did not tear his gaze away from Harry’s so quickly.

Eggsy Lannister was a square jawed, green eyed young man, whose beauty rumors did not give justice, and whose agility and skill rumors omitted entirely. And Harry knew exactly the kind of rumors that would start if he let the boy anywhere near him, rumors that he could not afford if he intended to rein in the trust of the Martells. 

Ultimately, it wasn’t the letter that made Harry place his sword on the shoulder of one, but not the other. The letter had come much too late, serving only as belated justification for a decision that Harry made alone. It set the path for unfortunate things to come. Starting with what would have been Roxy’s proudest moment being soured almost instantly. 

Harry knew Eggsy wasn’t going to take rejection sitting down. But he didn’t expect the boy to forget where he was, or who Harry was. Once he realized there was no white cloak to be pinned on his shoulders, Eggsy rose up the dais in protest. Roxy clutched his neck and pulled him behind her, just as the sharp whistle of swords chorused around them. 

“You swore an oath, _Ser_ Lady,” spat Ser Digby mockingly, “That’s enough cheek from you two. Stand aside.” 

“No harm was meant, Ser Digby, and for the sake of one another I hope you don’t mean any either,” Roxy spoke calmly, though there was a nefarious edge to her voice. She looked meaningfully at her King as knights, ladies, lords, eunuchs, singers, and maesters exploded with indignation. 

“Drop your stance, you silly girl.”

“This lordling is supposed to inherit Casterly Rock? Mother save us.” 

“An uncouth crannogman of Greywatch, I tell you, masquerading as a Lannister,” 

“Choose, boy! By the sword or the Wall!”

The court was not likely to forget bad behavior. But with her sex already stacked against her, Roxy could not afford to not have the support of the City Watch. Harry couldn’t remember if she’d won against the deluge of furious comments. 

He was too busy staring down Eggsy, who returned his gaze with the look of someone who had been betrayed and something else that left Harry a little breathless. 

As if Eggsy knew why Harry withheld the Kingsguard from him. Knew exactly that despite his decisions Harry would have actually loved to fight next to him. 

Would have loved that and many more things. Things Harry wanted to do, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t be that king - the king who takes and takes, the king with ulterior motives, the king who might start a war for love. 

No, the temptation was too great. He was a Targaryen. Try as he might to distance himself from the reputation of his forebearers, the same ravenous blood, the blood of conquerors, flowed through his veins. And he felt it sing when he looked at Eggsy, the burning desire to mount him on his dragons and reveal unto him the monster he passionately wanted to serve.

Eggsy deserved to defend a man who didn’t want to own him, fuck him, and use him within an inch of his life. Harry was going to make sure of that. 

So, when he called the hall to silence, he had meant to dismiss everyone and talk to the twins in private. Perhaps, offer Eggsy knighthood of simpler obligations, like a roaming legion. But before he could make any remarks, Merlin kneeled by the throne, letter in hand. 

“Just as well that you didn’t take them both, your grace,” murmured Maester Merlin, “Prescient of you. Urgent letter from Casterly Rock.” 

“You kidnapped your brother,” said Harry in the privacy of his solar, glaring at the twins as they knelt before him.

“He came willingly, your grace,” 

“Tell me, Lady Roxanne, why I shouldn’t rescind that cloak on your back,” snapped Harry. 

Roxy paled, for the first time since Harry met her, looking defeated and scared. Eggsy, who seemed to think he had nothing to lose at that point, raised his head and stared Harry straight in the eyes. “Because she deserved it, your grace, just like I did. She’s every bit Kingsguard material.” 

“I know you grew up in the North, but in King’s Landing, you will learn to hold your tongue or I will have you whipped at the Sept of Baelor,” said Harry angrily without a spate of affection, “As for your father’s request - “

It was Eggsy’s turn to pale, “Your grace, please - ”

To Harry’s surprise and disappointment, Roxy, even with the threat of being stripped of her new title, simultaneously pleaded, “Your highness, don't make him go,” 

“We’ve only been reunited a few years, my King,” reasoned Eggsy, the desperate plea in his voice making Harry’s spine tingle and reminding him exactly why Eggsy should be sent home. 

After seven days under their spell, Harry finally got a good look at the twins and realized he was in fact looking at children. Roxy seemed too small for the white cape, and beside her, her brother looked fragile. Harry felt sick with guilt for everything that he had thought of him so far. If his vow to be better than his ancestors held any grain of truth, he knew exactly what he had to do. 

“Eggsy, you will be on the Kingsroad first thing tomorrow. I prefer that you honor your vow as Kingsguard, Lady Roxanne,” Harry offers not unkindly, “But under the circumstances, as your oath was taken under false pretense, I will not hold you in contempt if you withdraw, should you feel that your place is by your brother’s side.”

At that, Harry turned to leave them. 

“The North called you the New Dragon,” said Eggsy after him.

Harry paused. 

“The Gentleman King, reasonable and just. I appeal to the side of you that hears the sincerity in my voice when I say that I do not have the same heart to return to Casterly Rock as I do to serve you. ”

Ignoring the way his heart swelled at Eggsy’s words, Harry looked at him and said sombrely, “When you are Lord of Casterly Rock, you will thank me.” 

Eggsy started to shake his head defiantly, and then stopped. His whole countenance changed, shoulders squaring with a defeated kind of resolve, but resolve nonetheless. 

“I will take the black.”

“No, Eggsy,” whispered Roxy in protest. 

Harry felt her disdain but did not let it show. “That’s a matter to resolve with your father,” he said coolly instead, “When you return to him.” 

“If I may, my King,” Maester Merlin stood up from where he was sitting, “Perhaps there is no need to send the boy home.”

Harry fought the urge to close his eyes. Oh no. 

“After all, no harm done. Only one twin was knighted and we are fortunate it was not the wrong one.”

Eggsy’s face flashed with anguish at Merlin’s words, but he didn’t dare say a word, looking anxious to see if the Maester was on his side. 

“Lord Dean will make his way to King’s Landing for your wedding to the Princess Tilde, anyway. All this confrontation is needless. The Lion himself will come down to retrieve his cub,”

It was the flicker of hope in those green eyes, Harry knows now, it was the hope, not the dragon inside, that set his world aflame. 

fin*

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to B for putting up with me and reading through the draft. 
> 
> -
> 
> I’m a slow writer. I also write for a living. I split time between my actual job and composing litanies of love to this fandom. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this. I’ve set this story a hundred years after the War of the Five Kings. 
> 
> Right now, I don’t have plans to take this story further*. I have a semi-plot, but I really just wanted Harry to fuck Eggsy on the Iron Throne, and play with the idea of Eggsy and Roxy as Jaime and Cersei. I'm just convoluted with my porn, but we'll see.


End file.
